I’ve wanted to write to you for years and share with you what I witnessed of yourMockingbird America when I, a native of Germany, first visited your country, shortly after you published To Kill a Mockingbird in 1960. And I wanted to look at your America today. Unfortunately, on February 19 you left this world for good. However, let me send my letter all the same, celebrating your 90th birthday on April 28th.

Good friends had invited me to the 1962 British premiere of the film version of To Kill a Mockingbird in London with Princess Margaret, the Queen’s sister, and Lord Snowdon, her photographer husband, attending.

​As soon as Princess Margaret stepped out of her Rolls Royce, people applauded, but when her husband of two years — a former “commoner” — appeared by her side, some Londoners screamed at him from the other side of the burgundy-colored rope: “What’s this photographer doing here?”

The ugliness of class discrimination in Britain matched the ugliness of race discrimination in the U.S. I was reminded of the almost daily scenes on British TV, showing white Americans hurling abuse at African Americans for the crime of being black.

Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon arriving at London film premiere, 1962. Photo by Ray Bellisario.

‘No dogs, no Negroes’

The film hit me hard. Your message came through powerfully. The audience clearly appreciated not only the actors, but your willingness to address a sensitive subject in thought-provoking ways: unconcealed racial discrimination that turned deadly. I left the cinema disturbed, deep in thought.

Two years later, I won a scholarship to study in the U.S. and was invited to a privately owned swimming pool in Kansas, greeted by a sign at the entrance: “No dogs. No Negroes.” ​

Racial discrimination was openly displayed in many public places in the U.S., including Kansas, August 1964.

When I challenged the owner, he screamed at me, called me a “Nigger lover,” and kicked me out. At that moment, I found myself in the world of Atticus Finch — isolated, unwanted, endangered, and troubled by the depth of racial hatred in the U.S., especially as I had seen hundreds of signs that barred people of color from using water fountains, restaurants, and motels.

By 1965, your novel had circulated all over the U.S., often against the resistance of school boards. The world watched your Mockingbird country with growing concern.

Across the tracks

Ms. Lee, how right on target you were with your description of the South in the 1930s that had not changed much in the early 1960s. Tom Robinson, the defendant and silent hero of your novel — a good man, innocent of the charges against him — was murdered because he had the wrong skin color, just as Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated in 1968 because he had the courage to speak up.

However, I believe that America may be slowly recovering. I recently attended Christopher Sergel’s stage adaptation of your novel at the Media Theatre directed by Jesse Cline, a Southerner himself who grew up in the mill village of Newton, N.C., where his entire family worked in the cotton mill.

“We lived on the wrong side of the tracks,” he recalled to me. “We were one-step above the African American population — or so we thought. ‘Niggertown,’ as it was referred to by many, was also on our side of the tracks. Our textbooks were used in the African American schools after they were used in the white schools. Their streets were the last to be paved.”

In addition to hiring professional actors, Cline invited the pastor of the Second Baptist Church of Media to play Reverend Sykes, together with members of his black congregation. As soon as they arrived on stage, the predominantly white audience welcomed them with a long and supportive applause — and therein lies hope.

Pastor Warren Mays and members of the Second Baptist Church on stage at the Media Theatre. Photo by Maura McConnell.

Then vs. now

Looking at the main characters of your novel, and the adaptations based on your masterpiece, I see that your Mockingbird America is still alive today — for better and worse.

Atticus Finch, the Maycomb attorney assigned to defend Tom Robinson, lives on in lawyers and academics who want to make a difference, like Professor Lawrence Marshall and his students at Northwestern University, who have dedicated themselves to winning freedom for innocent people on death row.

Tom Robinson, the black man falsely accused of raping Mayella Ewell, a young white woman, resurfaced in the 1989 Central Park jogger case, in which young black teenagers labeled “the Gang of Five” were wrongfully convicted of raping Trisha Meili, a 28-year-old white jogger. Even though all under-age defendants pleaded not guilty, they were sent to jail, with sentences ranging from five to 13 years, in spite of the lack of any evidence.

Tim Woodward as Bob Ewell points the finger at Travis Keith Battle as Tom Robinson during the trial. Kelly Briggs as Sheriff Tate and Bob Stineman as Atticus Finch. Photo by Maura McConnell.

Unfortunately, in today’s America we still see deadly violence directed against the Tom Robinsons of the 21st century, with enough killings by police officers to give rise to the “Black Lives Matter” movement.

Miss Stephanie Crawford, the town gossip, spreads rumors and false stories. She likes to over-dramatize situations and shake up her listeners, quite a few of whom hang on to every word of her accusations. Similarly, in 1989, the young Donald Trump, without any evidence, incited New Yorkers when he took out full-page ads demanding that the “Gang of Five,” teenagers, be executed. In 2016, now a successful presidential candidate, Trump — worse than Miss Crawford — maligned millions of Muslims, Mexicans, women, and many other groups. Yet Trump has continued to sit at the top of almost every Republican poll.

Last but not least is the spirit of Scout, your honest narrator. She lives on in the work of courageous American writers who try to expose injustices in our own time.

Painful last months

﻿Dear Ms. Lee, it grieved me to hear of the pressure you must have felt when your first novel, Go Set a Watchman, was published last July, with a number of people wondering publicly whether you had been coerced into publishing the literary forerunner to your world-famous classic.

That apparent first draft of your novel caused great pain to many readers who discovered that you had originally portrayed the beloved Atticus, symbol of honor and respect for the down-trodden, as a segregationist.

Harper Lee, 2 novels in 1. Illustration by John Gall, The New Yorker.

Whatever the facts, I hope you lived the last months of your life knowing that whole generations of Americans grew up with your Mockingbird experiences and that you contributed a great deal to an awareness that we must change, mature, and learn to respect each other, irrespective of any differences — real or perceived.

Through your novel I got my first taste of life in the American South and began to understand the roots of ignorance and hate.

Although we still have a long way to go, I want you to know that I feel more hopeful with each day.

What matters is that we have the courage to share and learn from each other, including an honest reassessment of earlier aspects of our lives and the things we said or wrote.

You certainly had that courage to say “yes” to your past, and for that I salute you.

﻿Thinking of you fondly, especially on your 90th birthday, I’d love to compose a song based on your words:

Happy Birthday, Ms. Lee, wherever you are in timelessness,

Henrik Eger

For this interview, originally published by Broad Street Review, click here.

This scorched and brittle manuscript of BEOWULF sits in the British Library.

“Beowulf” is an Old English epic poem consisting of 3182 alliterative lines, one of the oldest literary documents in Anglo-Saxon literature. Beowulf has a long history of having been passed on through the oral tradition in Germany, Scandinavia, Ireland, and Britain, before an anonymous writer, probably a monk, composed Beowulf, the epic poem, depicting a life filled with violence and death, but also with chivalry and clashing values and belief systems.

According to John Leyerle (1991), “the poem was recorded by Christian Anglo-Saxons who had largely converted from their native Anglo-Saxon paganism around the 7th century.” Robert F. Yeager (2007), pointed out that “the only Biblical references in Beowulf are to the Old Testament, and Christ is never mentioned. The poem is set in pagan times, and none of the characters is demonstrably Christian.”

“Beowulf” has attracted countless translations over the course of time, many more literary and historical interpretations, and a sleuth of creative works, including at least 14 cinema and television adaptations and references, 8 novels, 6 graphic novels, 7 musical works, 8 operas and theatre productions, 7 comics, 1 board game, and 6 video games.

Beowulf/Grendel, co-created and directed by Maura Krause, may well be the first dramatization of the popular old poem that takes place at a cemetery.

Henrik:Given the strong interest in one of the oldest literary documents from the Anglo-Saxon world, what attracted you to this ancient masterpiece?

Maura: The choice of Beowulf for adaptation was actually that of Mike Durkin, Artistic Director of The Renegade Company [in Philadelphia]. Prior to this project, the poem hasn’t held much interest for me. I read Seamus Heaney’s translation a while back because I love Heaney, but found that I far preferred his other work. What really sold me on Beowulf as a project was Mike’s proposal that it take place in a cemetery – I love historic cemeteries and felt that the challenge of adapting an epic poem to a strange and attention-grabbing location was interesting. I also felt an interest in returning Beowulf to its origins of oral storytelling.

Few works have seen as many translations and interpretations as the anonymous “Beowulf.” Which translation did you use and why?​The piece uses references to and excerpts from both the Seamus Heaney translation from 1999 and a translation by Meghan Purvis from 2013. Heaney brought the weight of tradition and some incredibly rich, complex language to our piece. Purvis gave us lyricism—many of our songs are adapted from her text—ambiguity, and a sense of a world populated by individuals, rather than archetypes.

Oxford professor J. R. R. Tolkien, the beloved author of the “classic high-fantasy works, The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and other novels, noted that the poem contained a great deal of Anglo-Saxon paganism, written during the early years of the Christianization of England and therefore dates to the 8th century. How much does the clash between paganism and Christianity feature in your play?

Not at all, really. We used the concept of God as score-keeping audience to some degree, a gaze—watching and judging our deeds. I would say we also played with the incantatory nature of Old English, which brings a certain pagan quality to some moments in the show.

What did you concentrate on in Beowulf/Grendel, and what were the parts of the original text that you chose to cut?​Although my favorite part of Beowulf has always been the unexpected revenge by Grendel’s mother, we focused on the first half of the poem, which is the part that most people know. We are exploring what we as social creatures expect from narrative, from a story we think we know, and in order to do that, the piece had to stick with the familiar elements of the plot. I will say that we toy with moments that occur after Beowulf’s fight with Grendel, and that the presence of Grendel’s mother is definitely felt in the piece.

Although “Beowulf “deals a lot with legends of violence and valor, it was also written for entertainment in those days. What did you do to connect the historic and fictional events with our own time and make it entertaining—in the wider sense of the word?

I tend to feel very little connection to pieces that overtly draw parallels between current events and the past so Beowulf/Grendel definitely eschews that. I do think that there is a huge amount of relevance in the questions we hope the piece asks, such as: Who is telling the story? What words are they choosing to use? In what light are they casting the deeds of one person versus the deeds of another? What are you as listener projecting of yourself onto this story/character?

We focused more on creating a sense of intimacy and contemplation than on creating entertainment value, although a foundation of the piece is song, one of the oldest forms of entertainment.

Even though the poem was written during violent times, Beowulf shows his strong chivalrous tendency when he treated the monstrous Grendel as an equal and refused to use any weapon in their struggles. How did you treat that scenario and how contemporary is your version of these battles?

We approached anything with the overtone of “chivalry” with a lot of skepticism. In the poem, actually, Beowulf’s men begin attacking Grendel with their swords, so for us that promise of Beowulf’s to fight unarmed felt a little like lip service to a kind of heroic expectation, and we definitely explore that in multiple moments. I’ll say that while the battles feature prominently for us thematically, no one should expect a period-appropriate violent confrontation.

Rather than writing a script about Beowulf, the hero, and Grendel, the monster, you went further and found some personal connections, including those of the three performers, to these archetypal figures. Tell us more about those connections and how they impacted your writing of the play.

Archetypes exist for catharsis, don’t they? To allow people to find something they are struggling with pared down and simplified. Whether subconscious or conscious, narrative allows us to process and explore the paths of our minds in safe ways. For myself and the performers, we found a great deal of resonance in the journeying that surrounds Beowulf, and in the exploration of how hard it is to shape a life that feels truly representative of one’s self.

Everyone has felt paralyzing uncertainty at some point, and this is perhaps the thing we most injected into the piece – no matter how bombastic or epic the original story might come across in places, all of these characters must have had moments of second-guessing themselves. We tapped into that, and while I won’t speak for the performers, I definitely tapped into grief and questions of my own evolution as a human being.

The Renegade Company, under Artistic Director Mike Durkin, has ventured out to perform in a wide range of environments: churches, museums, theaters, even a private home with a bathtub serving as the stage—and now you are going beyond the fourth wall. Tell us about your choice of taking your audience to places that many people associate not only with the death of others, but their own demise one day.​The location of the cemetery was Mike’s proposal. I agreed because I love cemeteries; they make me aware of how I’m using my time as a living body, and how there is a huge unknowable amount of humanity that came before me. I think this resonates so strongly with our version of Beowulf that it can’t help but make for a heightened experience of the piece. Ancestry and predestination feature prominently in our text and a place associated with death felt right for such a journey.

Your Beowulf and Grendel become alive at the Mount Moriah Cemetery in West Philadelphia, where the graveyard almost becomes a character in the play. Tell us more about your choice of this particular burial ground.

I wanted to set the piece somewhere that was at the same time familiar and unfamiliar, and Mount Moriah was perfect for that. The wild and sprawling nature of the Philadelphia side of the cemetery made me feel that out of many gorgeous cemeteries in Philadelphia, Mount Moriah was right for Beowulf/Grendel.

Additionally, the Friends of Mount Moriah Cemetery were supportive and engaged early on – their board president, Paulette Rhone, came to tech rehearsals and our preview, and I’ve had an active and satisfying dialogue with her throughout the process. I hope that the show will bring people out to a place they’ve never been before.

What gave you the idea to structure your piece in such a way that audience members divide up on a walking tour through the graveyard, and how do those actions correspond to the original epic poem?

As I read Heaney’s “Beowulf,” I began to feel more and more like Beowulf and Grendel were essentially the same person – we only know who is the hero and who is the monster because we’re told, because the perspective is on the side of Heorot [“the hall and throne room built by the Danish king Hrothgar, where Grendel’s attacks against humans take place”]. They both have achieved a level of notoriety because of their capacity to kill, and they both travel to a place specifically for the purpose of violence.

A sympathetic Grendel has been explored many times before, and so I decided to dig into the ambiguity and parallels between both characters, rather than privileging one of them. The physical opportunity to split an audience and ask them to think about who is who felt like a way to bring people into the show, an active way to explore a core question. I also think that the experience of reading the original poem is a little inexorable – you are pulled through the story by the lines, by the rhythms, and the chance to literally pull people through the physical space of a narrative felt exciting.

This year, Renegade has begun a collaboration with a clinical herbalist, Molly Landergan, of Telegraphic Tree, who has explored healing modalities, including Reiki, Integrated Energy Therapy, Forrest Yoga and Mindfulness Meditation. How did you integrate part of her work into your play about Beowulf/Grendel?

Molly and I connected early on, and pretty quickly honed in on ways to include Telegraphic Tree in Beowulf/Grendel. She was amazing, and actually went out to Mount Moriah in the fall and harvested a bunch of mugwort [”aromatic plants in the genus Artemisia”], which she then dried and made into smudge bundles for us. The burning of smudge bundles is a traditional way to cleanse and prepare a space, and so we use them at the beginning of the show to carve out a space for us within the vastness of the cemetery. They have a ritual quality, which is marvelous, and are connected to the site.

Molly and I also spent an evening inventing a blend of tea that we serve at the end of the show. It is meant to allow audiences to come down from the piece, to warm up a little on these chilly spring nights, to experience a moment of generosity after a challenging and experimental performance.

As a devised walking show set in a cemetery, Beowulf/Grendel could be considered an ambitious undertaking. At the same time, you attracted a number of people who supported your project.

In comparison to many theatre productions, I don’t think we had very many people at all. However, thanks to the folks we DID have, I wouldn’t call it MY project. It is the project of The Renegade Company, with initial parameters set by Mike, and the final product of not only myself but my fellow creators and the piece’s performers: Ainyé AnnaDora, Nia Benjamin, and Merri Rashoyan. There were a lot of challenges, such as limited budget, transport out to Mount Moriah (our stage manager CJ made much of this possible), Philadelphia’s moody spring weather, and above all, the cemetery’s many ticks.​There is writing from all three of the performers and myself in the piece – I collated it and edited it with the help of Renegade’s amazing associate and dramaturg Erin Washburn. Ainyé did the costumes, and we added one other traditional theatre designer, the incredible and inventive Sara Outing on props, in addition to working with Molly Landergan as sensory designer. I would definitely say the piece would have been impossible without any of these people. I hope that they all have a sense of ownership towards our Beowulf/Grendel.

What did you learn about yourself as a director through the whole Beowulf/Grendel experience?

I think I’m still too close to the piece to know what its lasting lessons for me personally might be. I suppose I learned that I feel a strong urge to challenge what the concept of narrative means to an audience, and I don’t think I’m done with that idea yet at all. The piece definitely contributed to my growing interest in ritual, and helped coalesce my thoughts about how we as social beings need communal markers of transformative moments. To be honest, Beowulf/Grendel is such a huge experiment in so many ways that I just don’t know what will stick yet!

Thank you, Maura and your creative collaborators—you “flower of warriors.” You all recreated “dear Béowulf” who was asked to choose, “the better part, eternal rewards.” Let me end with this quote from Beowulf, only two hours away from actually walking with your actors through the old Mount Moriah cemetery, reflecting on my life, on all my contemporaries, and on all those that will come after us:

“As I knew how, swearing no unholy oaths,Seeking no lying wars. I can leaveThis life happy; I can die, here . . . ."

Henrik: Congratulations to the whole Villanova community for having been awarded “a $1 million commitment from the Connelly Foundation to support a new Center for Irish Studies,” which, “Will support Villanova’s ongoing partnership with The Abbey Theatre, Ireland’s National Theatre.” Could you share with us what the plans are for the foreseeable future to foster the study of Irish culture at Villanova?

Valerie: The Connelly Foundation support is such a wonderful boon for the university and the department. So many of our students are already wildly enthusiastic about our connections with the Abbey Theatre through our internship and summer programs that I can’t wait to see what the future holds.

Tell us more about your work at Villanova. You have an impressive background with experience in Early American Theatre, Musical Theatre, Script Analysis, Teaching of Theatre, Theatre for Social Change, and Acting. Tell us how you are juggling these many hats.

Valerie Joyce, still from her TED talk, "Imagining ways to fill the great hole of history," 2015.

Not as efficiently or effectively as I might have over the past month of rehearsals, sadly. But, I have a great passion for each subject and I was trained as a generalist first and foremost, so I feel very fortunate to be at Villanova and to be able to continue to try to juggle all of the hats.

​How well did American students and actors, far removed from Ireland physically, but close to cultural divisions in the US, relate to the love story of the Englishman who doesn’t speak Irish, and Máire, who only speaks Irish?

​Yolland and Máire’s scene is so well-crafted that even though they have no idea what the other is saying, there is never any confusion about what they are feeling. It is the scene that most audience members comment on after they see the production and one that has been a joy to work on in rehearsal with the students.

In this setting—an American university campus serving both undergraduates and our graduate program—this scene plays with yearning and passion, but also taps into a joy at seeing these characters connect despite their complete lack of verbal communication. The audience’s resulting laughter is the release Friel offers that simultaneously underscores the possibilities and impossibilities of this relationship.​Intercultural and multicultural productions can bring out different responses in audiences, often hinging on their upbringing, cultural conditioning, and their willingness to listen to “the other”—in this case, American and Irish ideologies and ways of expressing oneself.

It has been interesting to me that Irish audience members have sometimes commented that American audiences receive this scene differently than Irish audiences do; that Americans find more humor in the characters’ missed attempts at communication while the Irish appreciate the painful truths beneath the surface of this scene.

In directing Translations, I found that Friel’s use of humor is like threading a needle. His precision is astounding and the humor offers the audience a release of tension while also underscoring a moment or idea he’ll play on later in the text. Most of Jimmy Jack Cassie’s (Barry Brait) humor about Athene in Act 1 sets up the resolution of the play, every bit of Hugh’s acerbic wit and Doalty’s (Kyle Fennie) oafish charm is crafted to build up an energy that is palpable when it is lost, and Maire’s poorly translated “maypoll” line repeats in all three acts, each time within a vastly different world, creating a vastly different impact.

Translations, which explores a wide range of aspects of life, including finding a home in this world, does not offer an easy Walt Disney ending, but leaves it open to thoughts about conquest and impermanence, hopes, and revenge. How did you, as a director, present these complex matters throughout the whole play to both entertain and inform, but also to provoke viewers to think about the linguistic and cultural gulfs in our own lives?

As we worked on the play, we realized that almost every single thing that happens in Act 1 is revisited in Act 3, down to repeated lines, repeated entrances, and repeated props. However, the drastic shift in tone as a result of the action of the plot casts a different light on each event in Act 3 – as if Friel makes promises to the audience and then strips each promise away moment by moment. It is a remarkable structure to watch unfold, from a more clinical stance, and one that accomplishes the sense of impermanence you reference and energizes the emotional journey of the last act.​Once we began to peel that particular onion, there was no stopping it. The more we made of each connection in Act 1, the more resonant each broken promise became in Act 3. Ever since the play was first performed, much of the audience debate around the resolution of the play centers on the apparent lack of specified resolution. I would argue that in refusing to give answers, Friel provokes a consideration of the deeper issues around cultural gulfs in our own lives.

Tell us about the artistic team and their shaping Translations. Rumor has it that your landscapers have moved thousands of pounds of soil into the theater and even lugged some boulders onto the stage. It sounds amazing, but is that true?

Villanova University graduate set assistants moved thousands of pounds of soil into the theater and even lugged some boulders onto the stage.

The rumors are true! The team of Jerold Forsyth (set and lights), John Stovicek (sound), and Janus Stefanowicz (costumes), and Elise D’Avella (dramaturgy) did an absolutely brilliant job of creating a beautiful, detailed, evocative world for us to play in. It wasn’t our landscapers that hauled those rocks, though, it was our graduate set assistants. Their blood, sweat, and blisters are all over these rocks, dirt, and costumes and we deeply appreciate their work.

How does this production show the clash of cultures?

The costumes, by Janus Stefanozwicz, are particularly informative in this moment as Owen, who is dressed with impeccable taste, arrives with the immaculately uniformed Redcoats. The drastic difference between the classes in this entrance makes visible the clash of cultures that is about to unfold. When violence erupts, although Friel leaves it off-stage, the set, lights, and sound designs in our production allow some of the impact to be felt through the open barn door that reflects the desperate act of the Irish, who retaliated against the British by burning their encampment.

The impact Friel focuses on is what will become of the literate and semi-literate people who are left behind in the wake of the struggle. He explores how their heritage is both obliterated and ebbs away like grains of sand, but he remains focused on their integrity and how it remains intact as they learn to adapt and survive and make this new place, this new language their own.

You praised your “spirited ensemble of actors.” What makes them stand out?

They are the nicest group of people to work with [all of the above, including Rebecca Jane Cureton as Sarah and Elizabeth Meisenzahl as Bridget]. We laughed a lot and we had a grand time together. But most of all, they deeply respect the writing and the craft that makes this play both affective and effective. They study script analysis and playwriting and dramaturgy and they enjoy pondering the questions – both great and small. They worked very hard at a very complex dialect and fully invested themselves physically and intellectually. I’m very proud of all of their accomplishments in this production.​Through his famous Translations, Friel said that, “It is not the literal past, the ‘facts’ of history, that shape us, but images of the past embodied in language.” Your production at Villanova did precisely that and allowed us to see invisible realities that shaped life in Ireland, but also life in America. Thank you, Villanova. Go raibh maith agat.​​

Translationsplays through Sunday, April 24, 2016, at the Vasey Hall Theatre of Villanova University – 800 East Lancaster Avenue, in Villanova, PA. For tickets call (610) 519-7474, or purchase them online.

For this interview, originally published by DCMetroTheaterArts, click here.For part 1 of the interview with Valerie Joyce, click here.

Villanova University, with its long theater tradition, has fostered not only the classics, but Irish theater for many years. To honor the 100-year anniversary of the 1916 Easter Rising in Dublin, Villanova is now digging deep into the historical struggles, making visible the clashes between Britain and Ireland, by presenting Brian Friel’s Translations. This two-part interview with Director Valerie Joyce analyzes important aspects of this play in part 1, followed by a detailed description of the production in Part 2.

The Irish Chekhov, coming to Philadelphia

Henrik: Brian Friel who has been called “the Irish Chekhov,” unfortunately passed away last October. What made you choose his Translations for your latest production at Villanova University?

Valerie: Friel’s work has long fascinated me, ever since I worked as a costume designer on two productions, Dancing at Lughnasa directed by James Christy here at Villanova andTranslations at the Professional Theatre Training Program at the University of Delaware, directed by Jack Going almost two decades ago. When the department decided to dedicate a production this spring to honor the 100-year anniversary of the 1916 Easter Rising, this play seemed like a beautiful tribute to the spirit of the Irish quest for independence and a worthy challenge for our graduate student actors.

What stood out for you in that production?

I fell in love with Friel’s brilliant use of language and his characters’ humor and pathos. I think this was my youth at the time, but I particularly attached to Maire (Amanda Coffin) and Manus’ (Stephen Tornetta) relationship and the painful realities surrounding their situation.

How did you visualize this new Villanova production?

I wanted to focus on the difficult choices these characters must make and the way Friel allows the audience to see their decisions as a result of the world that is crumbling around them. The role of Maire is a challenge for an actress for many reasons, not the least of which is that, as written, she can easily come across as opportunistic. Friel writes a hairpin turn for her in Act 2 as her affections shift and, if that shift is not motivated by her strength of character and her determination to survive, she can read as cold-hearted. Owen (Chris Monaco) is another character who, if not fueled by the charm and zeal that Friel describes in the text, can be difficult for an audience to attach to as the center of the conflict in the play.​Playwright Friel was quoted as saying that Translations is “a play about language and only about language.” This play seems to cover a wide range of language-related issues.​

One of the first conversations we had as a cast, since this is also a graduate program, centered around hallmarks of colonialism and the erasure of culture through the erasure of language. The beauty of Friel’s quote is that he is right – the play is only about language—but he explores how language is utilized on every level of human life in the play, which is why it also seems to be about love, loss, fathers and sons, history, culture, conquest, religion, sex, and agriculture. He illuminates for his audience the ways language connects us to one another, the ways we communicate without language, and the profound absence we experience when language is lost.

Friel actually uses four different languages—English, Greek, Irish, and Latin—to show the difficulty of communicating with each other. How did you and the actors handle the linguistic parts, especially the challenging situation of only the audience understanding what each person is saying, but not all the characters comprehending what is being said?

Luckily, Friel thought this out for us and offers such clarity in the dialogue and stage directions that simply following his instructions is often enough to accomplish the goal. The real joy of working on the piece is finding the moments where he leads the audience down the path by having the characters seem to understand one another, only to then offer a line that lets the audience know that they really have no idea what the other is saying. He sets these moments up carefully over the course of the play so that they really pay off in the moments he needs them to. As for the actors, they did have a lot of work to do, not only learning Greek and Latin, but then learning Irish and English dialects, and then how to say the Greek and Latin in their dialect!

That’s a tall order, even for the Villanova Theatre department with its great connections to Irish theatre and culture and the classical world of Greece and Rome. Tell us more about the dialect coaching for this production.

A tall order indeed, since each of these students came to the dialect from a different experience level and training. Naturally finding a common ground, as if everyone came from one place, was a large part of their workload. The chair of the Classical Studies department made the students a really helpful audio pronunciation guide of the Greek and Latin, and they then worked with Sarah Doherty, a Philadelphia actress and dialect coach who hails from Dublin.

We made the purposeful choice of a “general” Irish sound rather than the Northern Irish sound that would be closer to “realistic,” as that sound is harder to understand to the American ear, particularly on stage. Most of these actors did this work while performing in another show this spring, completing three graduate classes, and working full time!

Friel’s powerful and challenging play needs attentive listeners.

This play places a great value on the act of listening. As teachers and directors, we tell actors that active listening is crucial on stage. As I watch our audiences, a remarkable thing happens – they actually lean forward to listen closely.

Villanova chose a “general” Irish dialect, rather than its Northern variation as that sound is harder for Americans to understand.

Translations brings alive 19th century Britain—with Ireland still being under total British control. How does such a play speak to a contemporary American audience?

In our current political culture, we have moved to a point where the candidates seem to be no longer listening to one another and their constituents have tuned out the white noise of rhetoric and bile. This play may speak to our need as a community to listen to one another, to pay attention when aspects of our lives and our culture are slowly being eroded away, and to become engaged by the struggle to fight for what is important to us.

Could you give an example from the play?

In a telling exchange in Act 1, Friel examines the role of the translator, as Owen interprets Captain Lancey’s (Dan Cullen) announcement describing the British mapping mission. Owen’s translation for his Irish-speaking friends deftly adjusts the meaning of Lancey’s statements, so that the British presence will not seem as threatening or invasive. For example, when Lancey states that, with this new map, “the entire basis of land valuation can be reassessed for purposes of more equitable taxation,” Owen tells his listeners, “This new map will replace the estate-agent’s map so that from now on you will know exactly what is yours in law.” Then, when Lancey references previous evictions as “forfeiture and violent transfer of property,” Owen translates, “The captain hopes the public will cooperate with the sappers and that the new map will mean that taxes are reduced.”During this exchange, I hear audience members verbally respond to the drastically different interpretations as they realize how the person communicating the message is also in control of the information and that the translator’s perception of what their audience wants to hear results in a palatable, if inaccurate, communication of the message. This brings to mind the power of the press, the political spin doctors, and social media.

U.S. history begins with the conquest of Native Americans by invading Europeans and now shows the dominance of American culture worldwide—all sensitive subjects. Translations is set against the background of British conquest and imperialism and the struggle of the Irish to keep their integrity and their heritage.

Friel is very careful to populate his play with characters who are on the intellectual ends of this struggle. He introduces the dirty peasant farmers who are learning to write in their mid-twenties and the shabby but proud educated men of an earlier generation. These characters effectively concentrate the play on the outcomes of the colonizing struggle. And, while there is mention of the sappers—the British soldiers who are physically engaged with the mapping project and who may be a threat to the town—the audience only meets the military cartographer and orthographer (Sean Connolly), the intellectual men who make the map and rename the places.

Tell us about the significance of two people living two different cultural perceptions: Yolland, an idealistic British orthographer and outsider in Ireland, who wants to preserve Irish names and culture, and Owen—an Irish translator for the British, but also for his fellow Irish-speakers—a man who is quite willing to anglicize Irish names, apparently blind to the damage done to Irish culture.

Part of what is interesting about the play’s production history is that it is often touted as a love story, since it features one of the most enchanting love scenes in the English language. However, the real core of the plot is Owen’s rediscovery of the value of and willingness to fight for his own cultural heritage. As the son who left his Father’s hedge school to become a successful shop owner in Dublin, he proclaims that he “got out in time.” However, each person he encounters in his old home –his brother, his father (Kevin Esmond), his English soldier friend—forces him to recognize that the antiquities he regards with disdain are of great value and are being erased by his very actions.

Running Time: Two hours and 30 minutes, including an intermission.

Translationsplays through this Sunday, April 24, 2016, at the Vasey Hall Theatre of Villanova University – 800 East Lancaster Avenue, in Villanova, PA. For tickets call (610) 519-7474, or purchase them online.

In Part Two of his interview with Playwright Walt Vail, Henrik Eger asks Walt to take him on his journey of writing Young Frederick Douglass.

Henrik: How long did it take you to write Young Frederick Douglass?

Playwright Walt Vail

Walt: I wrote it rather quickly once I decided to use an older DOUGLASS as the narrator and FREDDY, age 17-19, as himself—and to tell the story of FREDDY’S growth and escape from slavery. This story is so exciting that I couldn’t stop writing it.

Take us into your journey of writing this play. What were the most surprising discoveries for you about Frederick Douglass?​The writing in his book Life & Times Of Frederick Douglass [his third autobiography, published in 1881, revised in 1892] is so vivid that I loved it as a writer myself. I felt immediately that no one really knows American History without reading this book. Douglass is a great American hero to all, white and black, etc. Brilliant, a genius who looked around him with great curiosity and asked questions like, “How do whites, who are few, keep blacks, who are many, in bondage?” His answer, “Ignorance.” Therefore, literacy and knowledge became “The direct route from slavery to freedom.” Can anyone not be inspired by that?

How many rewrites of Young Frederick Douglass have you made, and did you do any rewrites for the The Beacon Theatre Productions’ production? If so, tell us about your revision process.

About three drafts gave me the script, as is usual for me. Then I had the script printed. No further changes for Beacon. Between drafts, I had the script read aloud—I need to hear it to make it work.

You said that Joy, your life-mate, reads all your drafts, and gives you feedback on your way of portraying female characters. What recommendations did she make on Young Frederick Douglass that you listened to and adapted?

Joy helped me understand Sophia—why she didn’t understand slavery—and why she instantly loved Freddy, after his story of separation from his grandmother.

Were there any recommendations that she made, which you did not include but wished you would have, or are considering integrating for the next production?

Not yet. I really would like to write the story that is told in the last part of the Douglass autobiography: his return in adulthood to meet with his slavers, the Auld family. They seem to have been proud of him, if a bit reluctantly, but they had changed, too, with the changing world of America.

Are there other historical figures you are interested in for a future play, and why are their stories perfect for the stage?

I’ve already written a play on the survival of Betsy Ross during the British occupation of Philadelphia. I’ve also written the story of Eleanora Duse, and her emancipation from the men who used her. History is rich with great characters.

Abe Lincoln, Jackie Robinson, Abigail Adams—but I need a meaningful story aspect of a character before seeing a play become real in my mind. Some characters’ lives are very complex for a play.

Now that you have seen the production of Young Frederick Douglass, what are the choices of the artistic director that spoke to you the most and why?

I loved the production of Young Frederick Douglass. Georgina Bard, the Artistic Director [of Beacon Theatre Productions] and John Mullany, the director of Young Frederick Douglass put together a wonderful cast and crew who presented the show with enthusiasm and energy. The costuming suggested the period of the play—how Freddy Bailey (Douglass’ original name) and the elder Frederick Douglass as narrator might have appeared in life. I could see that the two excellent actors made it clear that each was playing the same person at different ages—Freddy Bailey as a humble but intelligent young slave—and Frederick Douglass as the great American leader, orator, abolitionist, and brilliant spokesman for his people.

As a playwright, what did you think about the performance of the two actors who are playing Frederick Douglass?

The two actors, Kamili Feelings as Frederick Douglass the older, and Gregory Holmes Jr. as Freddy Bailey did an outstanding job, under the direction of John Mullany, performing their roles. One could see Freddy growing from a humble slave into a powerful, free man as the play progressed. He starts out, head lowered, beginning to find some life and joy with his assignment to young Tommy Auld, learning to put a puzzle together, and learning his ABC’s.

Slowly he stands erect and proud to the point in Act II where he breaks his slave-breaker, Edward Covey, and challenges Covey to ever touch him again. Holmes also shows the courage of Freddy, the young slave, in teaching his fellow slaves to read.

Kamili Feelings is strong as the orator Douglass, showing us much more of what Douglass becomes as his life progresses—a man with eloquence and a deep understanding of what he will accomplish for his people and his country.

The two Fredrick Douglass actors did a good job. There was no problem understanding that Freddy and Frederick were two ages of the same character.

Beacon Theatre’s production of Young Frederick Douglass, under Director Mullany, did full justice to the subject and the script, presenting all of the characters in a setting that effectively came to life as only a staged play can do for an audience:

Katie Frazer as Sophia Auld showed a woman from the North (Pennsylvania) coping with the unfamiliar reality of slavery, and being slowly changed by it, but retaining her values. Michael Pliskin as Hugh Auld, Sophia’s husband, a man of the South, trying to bring her to his belief that “Slavery is ordained by God.” Pliskin is also excellent as Thomas Auld, Hugh’s brother, and as Edward Covey, the slave breaker, in Act II. In his three roles, he needs to be forceful and sure of himself as Auld, and then arrogant but defeated (without admitting it) as Covey. Pliskin accomplishes all three roles effectively.

Warren Johns successfully plays four diverse characters, and Damon Zarro does a great job as Tommy Auld—a young boy who grows into Freddy Bailey’s best friend in the Auld family.

Overall, the performance worked for the audience and put the story and its point across. For me, it disappointed a little because it should’ve run 90 minutes, not two hours. It did make clear a fault of the script—I depend too much on narration in Act II—even though the action makes Act II seem more intense than Act I.

What stood out for you in this Beacon Theatre production?

A playwright like myself, with many acting roles behind me, and having seen a thousand productions—I have a performance in my head when I write a play—an ideal performance. Joy complains about this all the time.

Beacon Theatre has a high purpose in this and in all of its productions—to do work that has a point and a lesson for all of us, as well as to be entertaining. They certainly made my play’s point (and Frederick Douglass’ point) that “Literacy is the direct point from slavery to freedom.” This is a message for our time as well as for the past—for if one defines “slavery” broadly, it is clear that literacy and the knowledge that flows from literacy is the way to be free people. As a playwright, I was thrilled to have Douglass’ message made so well by Beacon’s production. My hope is that audiences, young and old, will be inspired.

“Literacy is the direct point from slavery to freedom.” Gregory Holmes, Jr. and Warren Johns. Photo by Jen Jaynes.

Is there anything else you would like us to know?

As the playwright, I feel grateful to have had a beautiful production of a script that I spent many hours on, and even more grateful that its message will be delivered to and considered by many audiences in its run through April 24, 2016—perhaps even beyond. Thanks, Beacon Theatre.

Young Frederick Douglass plays through April 24, 2016, at Beacon Theatre Productions (BTP) performing at Olivet Covenant Presbyterian Church Theatre – 608 North 22nd Street, in Philadelphia, PA. For tickets, call the box office at (267) 415-6882, or purchase them online.

Running Time: Two hours, including an intermission.

For this interview, originally published by DCMetroTheaterArts, click here.For part 1 of the interview with Walt Vail, click here.

Young Frederick Douglass (YFD), a world premiere play by Walt Vail, one of Philadelphia’s oldest and most prolific writers, is about the slave who became one of America’s most famous abolitionists. The production opens tomorrow, April 8th at 8 PM, and is being performed by Beacon Theatre Productions (BTP), at Olivet Covenant Presbyterian Church Theatre, in Philadelphia. Directed by John Mullany, the cast includes Kamili Feelings, Gregory Holmes, Jr., Katie Frazer, Warren Johns, Jr., Michael Pliskin, and Damon Zarro.

To encourage young people of all backgrounds to attend the show, BTP offers free Mentor Matinee tickets for both the adult and the youth (from the age of 12 up) whom they bring along at any of the three Sunday 2 PM performances. The theater also offers a talk back with Playwright Walt Vail after the Sunday, April 10th matinee. For more information, go to Beacon Theatre Productions’ website.

Henrik: How did you come up with the idea of writing about one of America’s most famous slaves who became a writer and an American who influenced history?

Walt Vail holding a Playbill of his recent work ‘Branch.’ Photo by Tim Hawk.

Walt: I wrote Young Frederick Douglass (YFD) after reading his autobiography—a beautifully written book that one must read to understand American History. Those who have not read it really don’t know American History.

What is Frederick Douglass’ history?.

My latest play examines Douglass’ experiences as a slave in Maryland, before learning the power of education, teaching himself to read and write, and ultimately escaping at age 21 to become one the greatest—and most inspirational—abolitionists America had ever known.

The early part of his bio treats a time when Freddy Bailey (Douglass), a slave age about 18, was sent to Baltimore as a companion to Tommy Auld, the nephew of Freddy’s owner, Thomas Auld. Tommy’s mother, Sophia Auld, had not been born in the South, and did not understand the “rules” concerning slavery. So Freddy overheard her husband, Hugh Auld, explain to her that under no circumstances should Freddy be taught to read or write.

That’s terrible. The mental torture of slavery was as devastating as the physical violence against slaves. Why did the young Douglass learn to read and write in an environment so hostile to education for people of color?

Frederick Douglass, 1875

Freddy Bailey (Douglass) was very intelligent, and had asked himself, “How do the whites, who are few, keep Blacks, who are many, in servitude?” Overhearing Hugh Auld’s instructions to Auld’s wife Sophia (“Never teach a slave to read or write”), he knew immediately the answer was IGNORANCE. So he determined to teach himself to read and write.

He pushed himself and made major strides against all odds. What role did Douglass then play in US history?

He was an orator and statesman, a self-made freedom fighter who escaped slavery to become the voice of an entire people.

What was one of your main goals in writing this play about the young Frederick Douglass?

My play, subtitled Literacy, is the story of how and why he accomplished his goal of learning to read and write. Writing it is influenced by the fact that I am a teacher by profession, as well as a playwright. I want people, particularly the young as well as their parents, to understand the value of literacy through the play.

What did you discover as the reason slave owners deliberately kept slaves in the dark and punished them if they tried to learn to read and write?

Douglass overheard Hugh Auld say that reading would cause slaves to become malcontents, and never be happy in bondage, which Auld claimed was “God’s will.”

Douglass called his work, “A direct route from slavery to freedom.” I am defining his word “slavery” broadly: it can mean many kinds of ignorance. Many people today are still enslaved by ignorance.

How did you handle the whole lifespan of Frederick Douglass—from a young slave to a mature older abolitionist?

I use an adult Douglass as narrator and a young Douglass as the developing character. But I end the play with the attainment of freedom. The rest of the life story is another play.

Beacon Theatre Productions [BTP] is an energetic, but fairly new theatre company in Philadelphia, featuring socially aware and thought-provoking dramas. How did they find out about your latest play, Young Fredrick Douglass?

Beacon Theatre previously produced a one act of mine (Silent Night) and did a great job.

Although you will be 89 years-old this December, you are still writing one play after another. What is your latest work in progress?

I’m currently working on a new comedy, The Idea Man. I’ve processed drafts of it through the Neil Simon Festival in Oregon—they’ve sent extensive comments on each of the first two drafts, and I’m on the third draft. I’m hoping it gets more active and funnier with each draft.

You were a widower for many years until you met Joy Winston, who, like you, loves theatre.

Walt Vail and Joy Winston

Joy and I are doing well. She and I read each draft aloud, and I get the female point of view.

I can’t wait till I meet both of you and Frederick Douglass. I am also looking forward to speaking with BTP’s President Georgina Bard, who produced your play, and the cast and the artistic team.

And I am very much looking forward to meeting the Mentors who are bringing along a young person to witness the struggles and the triumphs of this amazing American.

For this interview, originally published by DCMetroTheaterArts, click here.For part 2 of the interview with Walt Vail, click here.

Eger: You just performed in multiple roles in Media Theatre’s production of Dogfight, a thought-provoking musical that handles a difficult subject—the lives of Marines before, during, and after the Vietnam War. Neither the music nor the lyrics are easy, and yet, the whole ensemble pulled it off. Tell us more about working with your colleagues on this challenging production.

Dunphy: The talent and voices of this group were beyond what you normally find in a group of actors. This crew not only bonded on a personal level with each other, but also demonstrated the famous Trifecta—Singing, Acting, and Dancing—at the highest level. It’s not easy to hold the tough harmonies, keep your acting up, AND move at the same time. The actors here have proven that running across stage and holding a high B is not only doable but repeatable seven times a week.

Eger: How did you prepare for the role as a Marine?

Dunphy: I went to a few of my Marine friends and asked them to teach me and fix what I might be doing wrong—from mannerisms of the Sergeant, to the proper way to salute and stand at attention and at ease. Another big preparation I did for my Marine portrayal was extensive Rucking (running with weights in a rucksack)— Rucking, like acting, is an art. I worked with ex-special forces in a training regimen known as the GoRuck Challenge: 10-12 hours, 15-25 miles, with a 94% completion rate. All activities and exercises were done with 30 lbs of weight on our backs, as well as rotating team weights of 20, 30, and 45 lbs. While I didn’t train with my cast mates, rucksacking got me into the best shape of my life.

Eger: You were superb as an arrogant waiter at an expensive restaurant who didn’t want an explosive Marine and his girlfriend to have dinner. What did you do to prepare for this role?

Dunphy: I’ve actually gone through a couple versions of this guy: soft, with a light tremor when scared, and eventually, the version you see today. Admittedly, I looked for the original player of this role [in the 1991 film] and his version of it to get a better idea.

Eger: You also played the exact opposite, a rough, couldn’t-care-less tattoo artist in San Francisco who was more interested in smoking whatever he was inhaling than in doing artistic designs for his clients. Yet, you pulled that off, too. Again, what did you do to prepare for this role?

Dunphy: Within 20 seconds, I changed from the elegant waiter to a rough, chain-smoking tattoo artist—channeling my first ever tattoo artist, who was bald, overweight, and even gruffer. My sharp-tempered artist with a sharp object just seemed to be the best way to do the character. I quickly threw some water in my hair and slicked it back, giving myself a balding, sweaty, piece-of-shit style look that made the tattoo artist even more of a tough bastard than the arrogant waiter.

Eger: One of your greatest strengths is your dancing and, sure enough, you were given the role of the lead dancer and MC. Where did you study dance, and how much training has gone into your work?

Dunphy: I studied dance through college, mostly Fosse, Jazz, and Tap at DeSales University for undergrad work. More recently, I studied with Maggie Anderson at Temple University. I believe some of the more classical training aspects of that class really brought me up from a mover to an actual dancer.

Eger: Share one thing with us that only your best friends know about you.

JP Dunphy as MC in DOGFIGHT

Dunphy: In addition to acting, I have a big dream to start a Tiny House community, completely off-grid, that traveling actors can stay at for practically free, or live there with long-term leases. My Tiny House community would be open not only to actors, but musicians and artists the world over. I love tiny houses, and actors are known for living out of backpacks for weeks on end. The concept of having a place always open to theater artists that wouldn’t cost a cent past the initial start-up seems like a massive game-changer for any actor or professional traveling. Eventually, I would like to have bases here, in Boston, New York, LA, and San Francisco.

Eger: What an extraordinary idea. More concretely, what are your next plans, professionally speaking?

Dunphy: I’m still working with Jeff Coon and Fran Prisco to broaden the Summer Club shows in Cape May, NJ, with well-known American theater artists who join our team for specific performances. We want to update the show in such a way that members of every generation will come and enjoy the showmanship and pure talent on stage. I’m looking into other theaters as well to expand my professional theatre base.

Eger: Great. Keep up acting, dancing, and singing, putting the fight in Dogfight, together with an outstanding cast under the direction of Jesse Cline and choreography by Dann Dunn. Who knows, your famous father might encourage his Temple University basketball players to watch the Marines in Dogfight and become even stronger athletes.